Sights seen
by MuteBanana
Summary: Molly meets John in a Pub and witnesses a clearly Sherlock-caused break-up. They get drunk and after a rainy walk home, they hook up. Contrary to their beliefs, Sherlock is not out on a case, though. John/Molly/Sherlock. Rated M for sexual content. NOW Chapter 2 - the next morning is up!
1. Sights seen

**Note: **So, the new "Jollock-movement" over on tumblr has affected me quite a bit, as you'll see. Please be aware that the content of this one-shot is highly sexual. Also: THREESOME!  
**Beta: **Emcee Frodis (Thank you!)  
**Disclaimer:** Sherlock and its characters are not mine. Otherwise they would be doing this in the series.

* * *

Bent over and pushed onto the desk by the strong and determined hand of John Watson while at the same time staring into very blue eyes, Molly wondered briefly how all of this had started. She couldn't really comprehend the string of events that led to this rollercoaster of bliss.

~o~

Molly had finally agreed to go out with a couple of colleagues after their shift had ended on a Friday night. Sitting in a cosy pub grabbing her second pint of Cider and listening to the mildly boring conversations of the others, she noticed John Watson come in with a very attractive redheaded woman. She was a bit taller than him, not enough to make the pair of them look ridiculous though. He noticed Molly and waved happily. She waved back, quickly turning away again. John was obviously on a date and she didn't want to intrude.

Soon after, however, she saw that the woman stood up with an angry frown, just as John put away his phone and talked to her, an apologetic look on his face. He couldn't stop her from leaving and seemed angry and sad.

Excusing herself, Molly had gone over to him and just said, "Sherlock." It hadn't been a question.

He nodded. "Wanna sit down and have a pint with me? I don't want to get wasted alone."

They ended up talking for hours. Mostly about Sherlock of course. But also about politics. And music. And why green gummy bears were disgusting. And after some more pints about past relationships, their respective first kisses, the way it felt when someone dumped them… And then they talked some more about Sherlock. Molly knew that John loved his friend with all his heart but could get depressed by his behaviour as well ("especially when he's being such a fucking _cockblock_"). And John certainly knew that Molly harboured affections for the detective…

~o~

Molly's colleagues had long gone when they left the pub together. She was feeling a bit wobbly and a look at John told her that he was a quite drunk as well. The streets were deserted and there were no cabs around, so John convinced her to walk to 221 with him. It wasn't far, she had a better chance to get a cab there and the walk would hopefully sober her up a bit. So Molly linked arms with the blond doctor and let him guide her in the right direction. Walking slowly, they both leaned onto one another for balance.

The fresh air was helping a lot and Molly felt only slightly inebriated when a heavy rain broke out a few hundred metres from 221B. Both of them groaned and looked at each other. "Walk in the rain or run?" John asked.

"Hm… let's run." Molly was still drunk enough to be in the mood for running.

So John grabbed her hand and broke into a run.

When they reached the dark hallway of 221 and had shut the door, they breathed heavily, giggling a bit, and leaned against it. Molly's damp hair clung to her face. John looked over to her and raised a hand to brush the errant strands away. When he had tucked them behind her ear, his hand hovered there for slightly longer than necessary. Molly turned her head and looked at him. His face was flushed from the run and several raindrops ran down his cheeks.

Without a warning, he kissed her, pinning her against the door. His tongue forcefully invaded her mouth and Molly was overwhelmed by the unexpected greatness of it all. She eagerly responded.

"Sherlock's out for a case," he whispered breathily when they broke apart. Molly understood and just nodded.

~o~

She felt immensely comfortable on the sofa with John's strong warm body pressing against her. When he moved his left hand from her face, down her collarbone and just a little further to brush her right breast without much pressure, she shivered. Now holding on to her waist, John broke their kiss and sat up a bit, removing his weight from Molly to look at her. He seemed confused and a little unsure.

"Molly, I… Err, I'm sorry, I didn't want to… That was maybe a bit too…" he sat up straighter. He was obviously afraid to have gone too far.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the built up sexual frustration in her, but Molly never felt as bold before. Without thinking about it further, she grabbed John's neck to pull him down to her. She could see him smile before their lips collided once again.

"This, John, is more than all right," she mumbled against his lips. The kiss was hungrier this time. Molly had given consent to much more with her action just now and both of them knew it, giving the kiss a more urgent and determined character.

Despite John's obvious want for things to progress, he was being tentative while touching her, faintly caressing her breasts through the material of her blouse. He shifted and Molly could feel his erection pressed against her thigh. A spark travelled through her body and she took initiative and pushed him into a sitting position, moving to stand up from the sofa.

"Have I done something wro-?" John started but was cut off by her finger on his mouth. The gesture was as reassuring as it was demanding. He was not to worry or protest. Slowly, Molly traced the form of his lips with her finger and a quick image of a particularly pronounced cupid's bow flashed before her eyes. The thought of Sherlock in this moment wasn't unwelcome even though she was very happy with the situation as it was. It didn't feel wrong. What she was doing felt absolutely right. _John_ felt absolutely right.

Molly moved to kneel in front of John's now sitting form and determinedly started to unbutton his jeans. When she looked up at him he swallowed hard, his eyes drinking in her form. Before she finished opening his fly, she cupped his erection through his jeans and heard him gasp. Quickly, she finished unzipping him and gestured for him to raise his hips. He obliged and Molly tugged at the jeans and his boxers until his hard cock sprang free. She smiled and took him in her hand. Looking up again, she saw that John had closed his eyes; his head was leaning against the backrest of the sofa, he was trying to breathe calmly and shifted a bit.

John's squirming made Molly hungry for more. Without further ado, she took as much of him as possible into her mouth in one swift motion. Not having anticipated such a rapid advance, John cried out in pleasure, both of his hands gripping the leather of the sofa next to his thighs. Molly felt heady and somewhat powerful. She stayed like this for a bit, licking the underside of his shaft.

When his hips shook almost undetectably, Molly started to move up again and sucked at the tip before releasing him. Now she placed several kisses all over his penis and licked every bit of flesh she could find languidly. Molly took her time now, teasing him. Soon John moaned desperately and tangled his right hand in her hair. Very carefully, he guided her head so that her lips met his tip again. She grinned up at him mischievously and quickly she swallowed him down fully, now starting a rapid bobbing rhythm.

"Holy shit!… Fuck," John's response was not particularly eloquent. Molly hummed her agreement. She could hear his breathing get ragged the longer her ministrations lasted. Molly had always loved giving blowjobs. The warm weight in her mouth, being in control… also, men were always so thankful afterwards – and she could imagine John being a specifically thankful type.

All of a sudden, a muttered "What the…?" interrupted her thoughts. Molly released John slowly and gave him a questioning look. He was staring straight ahead into the dark empty space of the sitting room and blinked furiously. She turned around to search for whatever he was peering at, but couldn't find anything special there.

"Is everything okay, John?"

He blinked again before turning to her. "Err, yes, yes, I suppose, I just…," he trailed off, confused.

"What is it?" She was concerned now.

"It's just, well- it must be the alcohol, I'm getting paranoid. I just imagined Sherlock standing there," he waved in the general direction of the kitchen, "looking at me. Being the epitome of a cockblock. I guess I can't believe this is happening and am scared that he will find a way to mess it up again. I'm… I'm sorry." His face grew more relaxed again and he stroked her cheek affectionately. Molly chuckled lowly and leaned into his touch.

"Don't be," she said, "and this is most definitely happening! He will not be _cockblocking_ tonight." With this, Molly squeezed his erection fondly.

John smiled at her warmly and suddenly stood, grabbing her shoulders to bring her up with him. He moved skilled hands to the hem of her blouse, lifting it over her head when she reacted instinctively and lifted her arms for him. His lips attacked her neck while he reached behind her to undo the clasp of her bra. She sighed contentedly and turned her head to grant him access to her throat. His hands found her trousers and unbuttoned them quickly. He grabbed her waistband to shove them down alongside her panties and all of a sudden it dawned on Molly that she was now stark naked. Sliding a hand from her waist to her arse, John whispered into her ear, "I'd like to taste you now. May I?"

Molly bit her lip to stop herself from moaning obscenely loud, instead letting out a whimper and nodding.

He turned her around and softly pushed her down into a sitting position on the sofa. Now it was his time to kneel in front of her. He started kissing her knees, sliding his hands from her ankles up to her thighs. The warmth that had started growing in her centre since John had sucked at her tongue so sensually at the bottom of the stairs was becoming an unbearable heat now.

With a gentle pressure, John pushed her legs apart and kissed his way from her knee over her thigh towards her sex. When she felt his tongue flick over her clitoris, Molly sighed, closed her eyes and leaned back. Tonight, she had decided to be spontaneously passionate for the first time in a long while. She deemed this the best decision ever when she discovered that John had an exceptional talent for his current task. He sucked at her experimentally and Molly arched her back. Her eyes snapped open and a soft cry escaped her mouth.

Staring into the open space in front of her, Molly thought she had detected some movement and when her gaze focused, she saw it. Well, _him_. She choked. Either she was paranoid now as well or Sherlock Holmes was in fact standing in the middle of the room, very much not out for a case, unreadable eyes fixed on John's head moving between her legs.

Molly wanted to say something. Scream at him for intruding. Ask John if he could see it too. Say hello? But no words would leave her mouth. Instead, she just stared at him wide eyed. After a few moments, Sherlock noticed her and looked straight into her eyes. There was no sign of embarrassment, no shock of being caught, no move to retreat. There was something else; something she had never seen in his eyes. Something exciting. Not being able to look away, she held his gaze.

John was blissfully unaware of what transpired above his head and happily kneaded Molly's thighs while swirling his tongue over her sex. Sherlock's piercing eyes on her made Molly feel John's ministrations more intensely and when he sucked again, she let out a high-pitched "Uh!"

Sherlock's eyes widened slightly at this and Molly's cheeks flushed. Obviously, the detective was not unaffected by what he saw. Testing the waters, Molly moved a hand to John's head and moaned a bit more loudly, biting her lip afterwards. Sherlock's eyes darted between hers and her hand in John's hair.

Knowing that she definitely shouldn't be turned on by this, Molly just couldn't help but think that this was the hottest thing that had ever happened to her. She felt her abdomen tense as John's tongue continued to send little sparks through her. She was getting closer to her climax and the pleasure was almost too much now. She panted, squirmed and grabbed John's hair tighter, careful to hold Sherlock's gaze the whole time.

John realised that she was close and moved quicker and with more pressure, letting out moans himself. When Molly saw Sherlock swallow thickly and grab the doorframe next to him, she came with a loud "Oh my god, I'm – Ahhh" followed by husky moans as John continued to lick her until she stopped trembling under him.

"Wow," Molly breathed. She didn't know if she directed it to John or Sherlock. Or neither of them.

John sweetly kissed her thighs and was raising his head slowly when Sherlock moved and was about to leave before John saw him.

Without thinking about it, Molly called "Don't go," making him freeze in his movement and look at her unbelievingly. John was perplexed when he heard her and even more so when he looked up at her face. She was beet red, her own words shocking her.

They had, however, had the effect of Sherlock actually staying, which made her feel inexplicably warm. She was also a bit scared how John would react. He followed her eyes and winced when he saw Sherlock in his dressing gown.

"How… how long have you been there?" John's voice was hoarse.

Sherlock didn't answer. He just looked at his flatmate.

John looked back at Molly, thoroughly confused, and she felt a bit guilty. Then back at Sherlock. And, when the detective continued to stare in silence, John stood up and took two steps in Sherlock's direction.

"Sherlock. Would you care to comment on this? How long have you been there and what makes you think it's all right to just-" John stopped talking when Sherlock's eyes left his and wandered down on his body stopping at his groin.

"Yeah, I _may_ be the one with his cock hanging out, but I think I still have the moral high ground here." While John didn't sound pleased, he also didn't sound very angry. "Why did you watch-?"

Again the doctor wasn't able to finish his sentence. This time it was because Sherlock had closed the distance between them with one large step and kissed him hard. Molly watched in fascination as John slowly worked out what was happening and then stepped back quickly.

The men looked at each other in silence again and for a short moment. Molly was scared that John would punch his flatmate. Instead, the blond man initiated another kiss, tugging at Sherlock's gown and pulling his head down.

Molly gasped; the thought of Sherlock being able to taste her on John's tongue was making the heat in her belly come back rapidly. Soon, John broke the kiss and turned to her.

He looked a bit lost. "So. You, er, you want him to stay, then?"

Molly eyes went wide. She didn't trust her voice so she just nodded slowly and a bit shamefully. She was scared of what was to happen next, but at the same time couldn't wait for it.

"Jesus, am I the only one having retained the ability to speak around here?" John muttered under his breath half-mockingly.

"Well, no," Sherlock spoke up, "but I thought it unwise to interrupt you when you were performing cunnilingus on Molly, especially as she seemed to enjoy the silence. And as for now I-"

"Yeah, you're right. Shut it, will you?" John stopped him before Sherlock was able to say something _even more_ inappropriate, too arrogant, or hurtful. Molly liked the more authoritative tone in the doctor's voice.

He then turned and made his way over to the sofa where Molly was still sitting with slightly spread legs. She was only now remembering to feel shy about the fairly explicit pose and her nakedness. The sentiment was heightened when she considered the fact that both Sherlock and John were almost completely covered.

John confidently held out a hand for Molly to take. When she did, he pulled her up to him. He looked into her eyes hungrily. "Just to make sure, you _are_ all right with… ," he was searching for words, coughed, found none, and instead gestured between the two of them and towards Sherlock, "_this_?"

Molly answered with a soft kiss and pressed her body into his. John was satisfied with that reply and guided her towards the middle of the room. Sherlock hadn't moved from where he was standing. He eyed the pair approaching him now curiously. Molly was unsure all of a sudden but forced herself to take some calming breaths. John had positioned himself behind her, now pushing her directly towards the consulting detective. Sherlock responded with a step forwards.

There was a pause in which neither of them wanted to initiate anything. Of course, Sherlock was the one who ended it when he swept in and took Molly's face in his hands. He lowered his head and hovered over her. He was very close but not close enough for them to touch. His eyes wandered over her face and neck until they rested on hers.

She felt John beginning to stroke her back and flanks, his warm breath leaving a tickling sensation on her shoulders. Sherlock drank in her reaction just as he had when he'd watched her come undone on the sofa. Molly whimpered. She wanted him to finally do something, wanted to feel those lips.

Sherlock smiled at her silent begging and finally lowered his head, taking her mouth with his. At first, he only nipped at her lips softly but Molly was eager and needed him to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth, inviting his tongue in and he obliged. When their tongues met, she heard a small noise coming from the back of his throat and was happy to have elicited any reaction from the restrained man.

At the same time, she felt John's grip on her hips grow tighter and he pressed his body into hers, making her feel his erection against her bum whilst sucking her neck. It was a sensational overload that made Molly dizzy with want. Just when she had started tugging at Sherlock's hair with one hand, John stepped back and pulled her with him and away from the detective, who frowned and gave a complaining groan at the loss.

John turned her around so that she was facing him and hungrily kissed her. It was a demanding kiss, as if to claim her back. He looked at Sherlock over her shoulder. "You like to watch, then? So, watch."

With that he guided Molly towards the desk in the middle of the room. He turned her around a second time and pushed her against it, reattaching his lips to her neck. She glanced over to Sherlock who had followed them tentatively and was now standing on the other side of the desk, actively seeking eye contact with her.

When their eyes locked, he smiled at her genuinely for the first time that night. As before, his eyes didn't leave hers and she didn't dare looking away when John's right hand reached around her to stroke her. He looked up from her neck and glared at Sherlock while slowly rubbing circles over her clit. Molly could hear the doctor growl behind her at the sight of Sherlock deeply invested in Molly's pleasure. John quickly moved his unoccupied hand towards a drawer and fished around inside for a bit.

Apart from the blood whooshing through her head, Molly could hear the sound of a foil wrapper being torn open and she tingled with anticipation. John withdrew his hand from her sex, pushed her further onto the desktop and leaned in. "Ready to give him a show?"

She shuddered. "Oh- oh yes!"

Both John and Molly took a calming breath before she felt him push against her, slowly entering her. He hadn't bothered undressing, his dark clothing starkly contrasting her pale skin. She stopped breathing until he was completely seated within her. And it felt fucking amazing. He wasn't moving yet but Molly already felt her inner muscles clench, the build up to this moment having made her hyper sensitive.

She sighed and, after a moment's stillness, pushed back against John, signalling him to start moving. When he withdrew and pushed back in abruptly, Molly cried out in surprise and pleasure. She felt fantastically full and the voracious spark in Sherlock's eyes seemed to burn into her vision.

This was by far the most thrilling thing the pathologist had ever done. Lust, hunger and raw emotions flooded the air in the sitting room of 221B Baker Street and she - of all people - was in the middle of it.

John settled into a steady rhythm, gripping her waist with one hand and stroking her back soothingly with the other. When his thrusts picked up in speed and he grunted occasionally, Molly had to hold on to the edge of the desk to keep her balance.

Both she and John were panting now. Still only Sherlock's eyes revealed his state. His face, as well as the rest of his body, seemed unfazed by what was happening right in front of him.

Well, not _all_ of his body. Molly noticed it when she reopened her eyes after a deep thrust from John had forced her to shut them with an accompanying groan. Sherlock's thin pyjamas bottoms did nothing to conceal the fact that he was rock hard by now.

"Sher- ah, Sherlock," Molly managed to stutter, one hand reaching out to him. John slowed his thrusts slightly and looked up. Sherlock's eyes wandered between his pathologist and his blogger. She could see that he wanted to come closer. Touch her and be touched. But simultaneously there was an unspoken question. He waited for John's approval. This little weakness, his indecision and doubt, made her heart flutter.

"Come here already, will you?" John grunted and she could hear that he was saying it with a smile.

Sherlock grinned and stepped towards the desk. One of his arms reached out and when Molly turned her head, she could see the detective stroke John's cheek in a gentle gesture. He withdrew his hand, caressing Molly's shoulder and then her face. When one of his fingers lingered on her lip she took the opportunity to suck it in her mouth, licking it eagerly. He whimpered when she released it with a pop. At the sound, John's thrusts grew faster again.

"Bottoms. Off," Molly bit out determinedly.

He obliged quicker than she could fathom. As soon as he was close enough, she grabbed his cock. She stroked him once before looking up. His mouth had fallen open and his eyes shone with want, still not leaving her. He was beautiful.

When she started to lick the tip of him, lapping away a drop of precum, two separate moans reverberated in her ears. One was low and sensual – almost musical. The other - coming from behind her - was ragged and raw.

"Molly, you're amazing. So, ah- hot," John groaned.

Sherlock's hand moved to her neck, massaging her warily. She took him in her mouth and started moving up and down his length. Quickly, he was wound up enough to have problems holding his hips still. He thrust into her mouth, careful not to make her uncomfortable. His consideration surprised Molly; Sherlock usually wasn't one to take other people's comfort into account.

Knowing the detective was close to the edge, she moved faster, being pushed to answer his movements by the consistent thrusts of John. She brought her hand into play again, holding on to Sherlock's shaft.

Suddenly, the angle of John's thrusts changed just so and Molly moaned around the taller man's cock. The sensation was enough to make his hips stutter and his muscles clench. With a guttural groan, he came and Molly swallowed his warm and salty release eagerly.

When he started going soft, Sherlock brushed her cheek again and carefully removed himself from her mouth. Then he did something that hugely surprised her. He fell to his knees and kissed her. Slowly and languidly, stroking her tongue with his. At the same time, both of his hands were ghosting over her face.

John's thrusts became erratic and he moved a hand to stroke her again. She could feel that he wouldn't last very much longer. She too felt a fairly epic orgasm building and was desperate to feel it release within her core. The combination of John fucking her hard and uninhibited, his hand teasing her clit and Sherlock's wet mouth supplying her with not nearly enough oxygen was making her insides ache.

Sherlock withdrew the tiniest bit, murmuring against her mouth, "Molly… Come for us, Molly." He then reattached his lips to hers.

Finally it was too much to bear. Molly came with a loud cry, swallowed partly by Sherlock's mouth. The room spun around her as innumerable waves of bliss flooded her over and over again. It didn't seem to stop for ages, slowly subsiding into white noise in her brain.

She was vaguely aware of John continuing his uncontrolled thrusts for another minute or so before she heard a choked sound as he came, pumping into her forcefully.

The blond doctor leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder before he withdrew and let himself fall into the office chair behind him, breathing heavily. Only then did Sherlock stop kissing her, resting his forehead against hers.

Molly was pulled off the desk by John's strong hands. He seated her on top of him, her back leaning against his chest, and lazily brushed his fingers over her abdomen. Sherlock stood and walked around the desk towards the chair. He leaned down and gave Molly a quick peck. Then, he kissed John with a passion that appeared to take both the doctor and himself by surprise, grabbing the other man's hair in he process. After breaking the kiss he leaned back against the desk.

"I am fully aware that at least one - more likely _both _- of you will feel the need to _talk about it_. May I suggest we do that tomorrow morning? This was rather… tiring. Whose bed are we sleeping in? I propose mine, I don't have the strength to carry Molly up the stairs." Sherlock grinned.

Molly heard John's chuckle and joined in with a hearty laugh. There was no harm in waiting for another few hours for her inevitable nerves to kick in, was there?


	2. Sights overheard

**Note:** Some people asked for another chapter of this and also I liked writing it too much not to do another one... Thanks a lot to my beta Emcee Frodis! So here it is: the next morning. I hope you like it. No plot whatsoever... just porn.  
**Disclaimer:** Of course, I don't own anything.

* * *

It was still dark outside when Molly woke up for the first time. She was disoriented for a second as she comprehended that she wasn't in her own bed. It was nice, though; she was comfortably warm and incredibly relaxed. A quiet snore behind her took her attention and made her realise that she was being hugged tightly from behind. Suddenly she was painfully aware that she was naked and the person - man - behind her was so as well. _Wha- Oh_.

Molly recalled the evening and blushed violently, happy that it was still dark and that whoever was spooning her at the moment was fast asleep. It took another few seconds until she could make out the second figure, lying an arm's length away, facing the wall. The light head of short hair told her that it was John, making the naked big spoon Sherlock. The doctor was wearing a t-shirt at least. She wasn't sure if there were bottoms as well as his lower body was hidden under the sheets.

She took a calming breath, careful not to move and wake one of them, and waited for the panic. Shockingly, it didn't come and all too easily she drifted off to sleep again.

~o~

Sherlock awoke suddenly. He was instantly aware of Molly's body pressed against him and was surprised that it didn't feel absolutely revolting. Actually, it was… _nice_.

The night previous had been rather interesting. His mind had raced with the amount of sensations it had been filing away rapidly. But still, he had the suspicion that he hadn't captured all there was to it. He was still unsure of so many things. Being unsure always unsettled him slightly. Quickly he made a list of gathered information while Molly and John were still asleep and unable to disrupt him.

He had enjoyed himself. _Sure of it_.

The others had enjoyed themselves as well. _Sure of it_.

To begin with, he had watched them out of scientific interest. _Almost sure of it_.

He had joined in out of scientific interest. _Debatable_.

John was still his best friend. _Sure of it_. Molly had suddenly become someone he thought of as a friend. _Oh, yes_. Both of them were his friends. Interesting - Very, _very_ good friends. _Sure of it_. He liked the noises they made when they climaxed. _Hmm_. His clinical thoughts moved towards more of a slur of sensations and memories of pleasure.

_Molly's skin is unbelievably smooth_. The thought came unbidden to him, but it was there, cemented in his head. Why? Only then did he realise that he'd been rubbing patterns into the skin of her thigh for a few minutes. Oh. _Ohhh_. He allowed himself to slip out of his preoccupation with his mind acknowledged his body again. It was reacting very distinctly to the fact that a big portion of the aforementioned soft skin of Molly Hooper was pressed against him.

That was the moment he decided a repeat of last night's happenings was due. To gain more information, of course. Well, some deviation from the original conditions would be all right.

As pleasurable as it was being fellated – no, 'receiving a great blowjob' fit better – he wanted more. He eyed Molly, then John. Both were still fast asleep. Sherlock was sure that at least Molly wouldn't be for long. Soon she would sense the growing erection pressing into her buttocks, especially as Sherlock had started shifting and nudging her unconsciously.

The hand on Molly's thigh began circling wider patterns, travelling to her stomach, and when he reached her lower abdomen he had to stop himself. It was hard, for now he picked up her sweet scent and it was very tempting. Sherlock was certain that invading her privacy so severely required her knowledge and approval.

To get her to approve of his ministrations she had to be awake. Sherlock lowered his head and started licking and sucking her neck tenderly, working his way up to her ear. When he nibbled at the lobe she shifted, still half asleep, and mumbled incoherencies. Her hand came up to her ear to get rid of the unidentified intruder stealing her sleep and ungracefully collided with his nose.

"Good morning… Isn't it?" Sherlock purred while holding on to her stomach and rubbing soothing circles into it with his thumb.

Molly stiffened. "Oh."

He carried on licking her ear and throat until she slightly relaxed again, her hand still hovering in front of his face. Sherlock tentatively rocked against her backside, making her feel his now hard cock.

"_Oh_," she breathed out again, the word now carrying a lot more connotations.

Not knowing how to ask permission with words Sherlock moved his hand lower on her stomach, long fingers slowly reaching out. Then he stopped both his hand and his nibbling of her throat and marginally raised his head, trying to look down into her eyes. They were closed but he could see her pupils flicker behind the lids. Molly was excited, or aroused, or agitated - or all the above. He was waiting for a reaction, some sign of denial or acceptance. He was hoping for the latter with an intensity that baffled him.

After what seemed like hours but of course were merely seconds she simply said, "yes, it _is_ a good morning." Her voice was rough from sleep. She opened her legs slightly, inviting him to continue and he instinctively wriggled his knee between her thighs. Her hand moved towards him once again but this time grabbed his hair and pulled his head back down to her neck. Before he reconnected with her skin, he saw her glancing at the still sleeping form of John.

"Don't worry," Sherlock whispered in her ear, "he will be awake soon enough. But until then-"

He sucked at Molly's skin more forcefully now and finally let his hand move those few inches lower, one finger sliding between her folds. Molly shuddered and hummed contentedly.

"You are remarkably wet already," Sherlock purred against her skin, not able to stop the thought from coming out of his mouth. So he did dirty talk then? Well, Molly seemed to like it, as she began moving her hips against his finger ever so slightly. Her movements encouraged him to start slowly pumping into her, soon adding a second digit. She wriggled and began trembling. Sherlock noticed her respiration having quickened by a fraction, but his brain was too distracted to determine it accurately.

When he withdrew his fingers Molly made a small noise of disappointment that turned into a soft moan when he began stroking her clit. It was barely a caress, just the lightest of touches. And Sherlock liked the needy sounds that escaped Molly and how her hips jerked to produce more friction. When he opened his eyes again he peeked at her breasts. Her nipples were hard and he regretted having only one hand available due to their positions on the bed. He would have loved to trace her curves, maybe pinch those nipples teasingly. But he certainly liked his current power over Molly's pleasure too much to dare neglecting his hand's present task.

It took a lot of self-restraint not to rub harder and faster. Sherlock wanted to hear those lovely sounds grow louder for him. But he also loved the control, every second of her pleading, the slowly built up tension, and wanted it to last as long as possible. Molly was very responsive to his fingers' movements. Her body was completely relaxed now and he relished the feeling of her trusting him completely.

The pathologist was playing with her breasts now and bucked her hips back and forth, meeting his fingers and pushing her rear into his groin. Sherlock gasped at the sensation, breathing into her ear heavily. Suddenly the desire to feel her around his cock was overwhelming. A glance at John confirmed that his flatmate was still sleeping. Surprising, considering the quite substantial noise they - Molly - had already made. Maybe it was better this way – Sherlock was sure that his friend would complicate everything with his supreme embarrassment. But still, he felt a strange loss when he realised he wasn't going to share the moment with the other man. Molly's fingernails suddenly burying themselves in one of his buttocks snapped him out of this trail of thought and he concentrated on her again.

"Molly, I… I want to be inside you," he panted.

"Ahhh, yes. P..Please," came her immediate answer. Her voice was raw.

Sherlock promptly flipped over, fished a condom out of a drawer of his bedside cabinet - John had bought them for Sherlock during the incident with the Woman, a half-joking indication he should be ready in case the mood struck. He put it on in record time. Gently, he hooked his hand under Molly's knee and lifted her leg. She reached for him and guided him to her entrance. Before he entered her she turned her head to look at him for the first time that morning. Her eyes were warm and her pupils fully dilated. She smiled. Sherlock's chest grew inexplicably tighter the moment her eyes met his and he softly whispered, "you okay?"

Molly seemed surprised by his tender tone. She nodded and, while still holding her gaze, he pushed into her slowly. Both of them sighed when he filled her completely.

Sherlock set a slow pace, withdrawing and pushing back in with long, languid thrusts. Soon Molly started panting and whimpering anew. He knew she had been close to climaxing before and was building up to it again. But he also knew that this pace was not going to push her over the edge just yet. Still, her moans grew louder again. Sherlock's gaze regularly caught on the back of John's head and he could see Molly's was as well.

A soft "Oh, Sherlock," sounded from Molly and he instantly tried to store away the sound of her voice saying his name in such esctasy in his mind palace. The plea caused him to move his hips faster. That's when he saw the tiny motion on the other side of the bed. The detective smirked for more than one reason.

~o~

John had the dirtiest dream. He was in his living room taking Molly – Molly, the pathologist – roughly from behind. It was glorious and intense. While this qualified as a dirty dream, what made it the _dirtiest_ dream was that Sherlock was watching them going at it like rabbits. But this felt far too real… And suddenly it hit him mid-dream: It had actually happened - that was why it was so detailed. And so great. And so frightening.

_Holy crap, what have we done? _

The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come. Instead, he decided he could at least enjoy the dream while it lasted and leave the worries for later.

Molly's moans grew louder and increasingly realistic. John slowly felt himself slip out of his dreaming state and regretted having to leave those sweet sounds behind when he realised that they were not fading. Instead, they grew louder and louder. A breathy 'Oh, Sherlock' was what finally woke him up. He felt the mattress bounce slightly with shifting weight beneath his saggy body.

It took him some moments to process what was happening. But then Molly's sighs and Sherlock's grunts left no doubt about what was happening behind his back. John felt blood rush to his head; it was almost a spinning sensation. At the same time, the sparse residual blood in him was apparently needed in his groin.

_Why am I wearing a shirt but no pants?_

The doctor didn't know what to do now. He really was aching to see them, feel them. But he couldn't just casually join in, could he? On the other hand, did people expect privacy when they started humping each other on the same fucking bed as someone else? Someone else who has shared an evening of great sex with them before…

"John, will you turn around already?"

The doctor stopped breathing when his flatmate's laboured voice interrupted his thoughts. So Sherlock knew he was awake. He contemplated just ignoring him, as well as his very persistent erection, when Sherlock spoke again.

"Please, John. Did you really think you could hide a breathing pattern that is so different from a sleeping person's? I may be distracted in a lovely way but I'm still not deaf and blind."

John heard Molly giggle at this. "See. Even our delicious pathologist - ahh - knew. And she is _very_ distracted, being merely moments away from her first orgasm of the morning."

"First?" Molly's delighted tone was impossible to miss. Especially since it was topped by a high pitched moan that followed a sudden bounce of the mattress beneath John. His mind's eye filled the gaps left by the lack of any visuals.

_Oh my god, this is the most ridiculously hot situation anyone was ever in. Ever._ An involuntary throaty sound escaped him. He knew it didn't make much sense to go on pretending to be asleep.

"Of course, if you cannot bring yourself to turn towards us… I can always describe the _show_ to you," Sherlock went on almost teasingly. The way he emphasised the word 'show' left no doubt that he was executing some weird payback for his friend's actions the night before. John had made Sherlock a filthy spectator and the same was about to happen to the doctor now. The thought made him impossibly harder.

For cruel seconds the only sounds were the heavy breathing and gasps of Molly and Sherlock. Then the detective continued, "well, John. When you were still sleeping I started pleasuring Molly with my hand and sucked a very pretty mark into the skin on the right side of her throat. I am positive that she liked that a lot." John could _hear_ that a broad smile was plastered on his friend's face right now.

"She tastes fantastic. And that was just her neck. I do envy you, you know. You got to taste so much more yesterday."

John couldn't help whimpering weakly only to realise that Molly had done the same, but her whimper was desperately pleading as well. The rapidly quickening bouncing of the mattress was almost driving him crazy.

"I presume you've guessed –uh-," Sherlock panted, "that I'm now fucking her." The dirty language caused a shiver in John. "And she does feel so incredibly good. Warm and tight."

"I'm holding her leg so she's spread open wider for me. Like that I can-" Sherlock was interrupted by Molly crying out. John remembered the sound from the previous day. She really was close. He wanted to see her when she climaxed but was still not sure he'd survive the moment he had to look into their eyes. This was just so… _so what?_

"Like that I can thrust deeper," Sherlock continued seemingly unfazed. "The knowledge that I'm filling her completely… It's quite intoxicating, John." Another moment of silence was followed by a loud moan from the pathologist. Suddenly, John felt Molly's hand cradling his skull, stroking his hair, and he couldn't hold back any longer.

As quickly as it was possible without falling out of bed he turned around, looking into her deep sparkling eyes. He grabbed her hand and placed quick open-mouthed kisses on her palm and fingers.

Molly closed her eyes, her brows furrowed and her body shook. Her mouth was wide open as she came, stuttering out cries with quick breaths.

~o~

When John had finally turned around Sherlock could see his tortured face. Thankfully, the doctor relaxed quickly when he found Molly's eyes. Now that John was actively experiencing everything with them, the tiny knot in Sherlock's stomach loosened.

Molly's orgasm had hit abruptly and the feeling of her muscles clenching around him caused a strangled grunt to escape him as he buried his face in her shoulder. He slowed his thrusts and gently rocked her through her climax. When she went completely limp he stopped moving altogether and briefly thought about when it would be appropriate to start simply fucking her wildly.

_Not yet_, he decided. Also, there was a newcomer to deal with first.

Sherlock saw John was hesitantly turning his gaze away from Molly's face now, trying to capture the other man's eyes. He ignored it pointedly, leaning over Molly and kissing her briefly but passionately. Only then did he raise his head and looked straight at his flatmate.

"Hello," was the slightly anticlimactic salutation he came up with.

"Hey," John answered. Sherlock could barely see the doctor's pupils as his lids were almost closed. There was a mixture of lust and shock in them.

"Care to come closer?" With that, Sherlock carefully let go of Molly's leg and extended his arm invitingly towards John. Molly instinctively hooked her leg around him and dug her heel in his arse for balance. She wriggled and tried impaling herself on him, but didn't have enough leverage for the task. Taking it as a clear sign that it was all right to continue moving, Sherlock began slowly pumping into her once again.

The pathologist's hands were pulling John closer and finally Sherlock could reach him as well. Not giving his friend a chance to object, he yanked him forward and caught his lips violently, biting, sucking and licking wildly. John responded beautifully but soon tried to calm him by massaging his scalp soothingly.

"Jesus, Sherlock. No need to try and eat me." John breathed heavily when he broke their kiss and he looked at the taller man with a smile. "I won't go away, okay?!"

Sherlock nodded, trying to force some regularity into the thrusts that had become a bit uncoordinated while kissing John. Molly's warmth and the additional pressure caused by her foot pushing him into her repeatedly affected him, his balls tightening dangerously. He concentrated not to be washed away by the sensations and come right away. Sherlock was not a man of empty promises – he planned on giving Molly her second orgasm and making it unforgettable. So he held on for dear life. Which was hard considering John was looking at him like a horny teenager.

~o~

John looked at Sherlock after snogging him and steadily his doubts started to vanish. He had moved closer to them and was only inches away from completely covering Molly's front with his body. He felt her hot breath on his face and upper chest and didn't know what to look at - or touch - next.

Sherlock's locks were a beautiful mess and his skin was glinting with sweat. His swollen lips reconnected with Molly's shoulder, which made her gasp. Following the line of her neck upwards John's gaze travelled to the pathologist's mouth. It was hanging open, silently crying in pleasure and the doctor licked his own lips at the sight of her slowly coming undone again. Quickly, John moved in and gave her a delicate peck. Then another. And another. The kiss developed calmly and pleasantly, her tongue finding his and stroking it sweetly. His left hand travelled to her hip, massaging it. John felt her breasts bounce against his torso as her whole body was rocked into his by Sherlock's powerful thrusts. It caused a gorgeous friction and a moan escaped his throat, being immediately answered with one of Molly's.

The pathologist grabbed the back of his head and pulled his hair while still kissing him and in a reflex John's hips bucked forwards. He hissed and let his hand roam freely over Molly's leg until he collided with Sherlock's, which was also holding on to her. John was startled and froze momentarily. But then his flatmate's thumb rubbed soothingly over his fingers and John relaxed again.

_It's all fine_, he reminded himself.

The consulting detective's thrusts picked up pace again and Molly had to break their kiss to be able to inhale properly. Her breathing was so quick that John was almost feeling obliged - from a medical standpoint - to worry about her wellbeing. Her hands were still in his hair and she looked so fucking beautiful.

"Oh my god! _Ohmygodohmygod_. Sherlock! J-John!"

Her cry sounded like poetry to the doctor and, realising that he definitely wanted to take part in causing Molly's second climax, he moved his hand to her mound and began circling her clit. It was a weird angle and Sherlock's balls kept brushing against his fingers. It made him feel so filthy, but was plainly brilliant. He shut his eyes and little sparks were reflected on the insides of his lids.

Without realising it, John had begun mirroring Sherlock's thrusts and repeatedly bucked into Molly's stomach. He desperately wanted more friction and groaned needily. That's when he felt a hand finally gripping his cock, starting to pump in a frenzy. With that pace he wasn't going to last, but he didn't care one bit. He met the movements eagerly and faintly became aware that Molly's hand was still in his hair, which made the hand currently wanking him off…

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ in a chip shop, Sherlock! –Urrrrghngh!"

John came abruptly and hard, spilling all over his friend's graceful, long fingers and Molly's stomach. He opened his eyes while still pumping through his orgasm. His vision was blurred but he saw two pairs of eyes staring at him, entranced and strained. They were both smiling warmly even though they were close to their own peaks.

The doctor increased the pressure on Molly's clit and she came almost on demand, shuddering and screaming, pulling his hair and then swinging her arm around to squeeze Sherlock's arse. The detective pumped into her hard and desperately, grunting with exertion and built up pleasure, racing towards release. His eyes were closed and his hand moved to hold Molly's waist tightly, keeping her in place to receive his merciless thrusts. It was an astonishingly beautiful sight.

He threw his head back and pressed out a single shout when he came, his hips jerking and his nails digging in Molly's waist.

~o~

Sherlock was still breathing unevenly when he carefully pulled out of Molly and disposed of the condom. When he encircled her upper body once again and pressed a light kiss on one of the marks he had left earlier she felt dizzy. She blinked a few times to regain some control over her thoughts and/or her body. The pathologist lay limply in between two deliciously spent men. Their combined warmth was lulling and calming her.

Sherlock wordlessly and naturally nuzzled her neck, and John smiled weakly but contentedly while rubbing patterns into her thigh with his fingertips. Molly knew that she should be anxious. She just _couldn't_ be. Not when it felt so right being framed by these two bodies on either side of her.

She also knew that they _really_ had to talk about this. And they would. And it would be all right. But now they just enjoyed.


End file.
